


pull me close, kiss me hard(i'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart)

by keenmint



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, Mutual Pining, absolutely no forethought we die like fools, catch me pretending to be bitch-passing in order to write this lmao, copious swearing, definitely Taking Suggestions on that, happy halloween !!!, i only used moment Once so proud of myself sdbfsjdnfbsn, social group sabotage, some mentions of bullying, underaged drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenmint/pseuds/keenmint
Summary: the annual halloween bash is the only place where winners(chandler) and losers(veronica sawyer) can brush shoulders without westerburg's social hierarchy fucking imploding.it's also chandler's last chance before veronica graduates. to be brave, for just one night.girls like her aren't supposed to want girls like veronica. but on halloween, chandler can put on the mask and disappear into the throng of drunk teenagers. anonymous. free. she can beanyone but herself.





	1. in un-fair westerburg, where we lay our scene

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [keenmint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenmint/pseuds/keenmint) in the [Heathers_Fanfic_Challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Heathers_Fanfic_Challenge) collection. 



> heyo! happy halloween!

Heather Chandler sighed, examining her dubiously edible potato salad under the fluorescent lighting of the Westerburg cafeteria.

"I hate that Halloween falls on a weekday this year," She said. "How much do you want to bet that half the school will be out 'sick' tomorrow?"

"Not the losers." Heather Duke mumbled, nails clicking against the screen of her phone as she scrolled. "They can only dream of a party this good."

"Are _we_ going to be out sick?" Heather McNamara asked, propping her elbows on the lunch table and leaning closer. "I don't want to be at school hungover." Heather Duke laughed from next to McNamara, still not looking up from her phone. Chandler's stare snapped to her in an instant.

"Something funny?"

"That depends Heather, as you know..." Duke glanced up from her Instagram. "We haven't even been invited to the Halloween Bash yet."

"We were invited last year," Chandler challenged. "I'm sure the student initiative club is just late passing it out. And we certainly aren't losers. Have you forgotten? We rule this school." Duke made a vague, scornful noise. Chandler made a hissing intake of irritated breath, and McNamara launched herself in between the upcoming spat.

"They can't have a party without us." McNamara blurted. Chandler turned towards her as Duke followed suit. McNamara shrank back a little at the attention. "It's, uh, reputation and stuff. If we aren't there then everyone knows that the party's not worth going to."

"It's also exclusive." Duke reminded her. "Westerburg is a large school. It's not like we can fit the entire student body into the gym anymore."

"The gym smells like legit ass." Chandler scoffed. "Weren't they supposed to like, renovate it?" McNamara perked up, hastily swallowing the remnants of her neon green smoothie. Some kind of nutritionally balanced meal plan for athletes. Chandler tried it once and nearly threw up.

"Oh wait, with the fundraiser last year? I remember that! It's so weird they haven't done anything yet."

"You're placing too much faith into the school board's ability to not embezzle money." Duke remarked. "Those barnacles only care about their four hundred dollar golf clubs and making sure they have a lifetime supply of adult diapers to catch all the shit that falls out of their mouth." Chandler and McNamara burst out laughing. Chandler caught the slightest self-satisfied smile before Duke ducked her head down again to check her phone.

"Heads!" Someone shouted, and the Heathers ducked as a bright orange wad of paper came soaring over. It landed in the trashcan behind them and the entire table of jocks on the other side of the room cheered loudly. "KOBE!" One bellowed.

Chandler scoffed. "Go Rottweilers."

"Ugh." Duke groaned. "Actually you're right, Heather, if those dumbasses can get invited so can we."

"They're probably just behind on handing out invites." McNamara said. "Is Jenna at school today? We should go find her." Jenna was their contact in the student initiative club. Last year, thanks to Jenna, they opened their lockers a week before the party itself to find a card with a time and place along with a small enamel pin in the shape of a bat. It had attracted envious looks and was firm confirmation of their status as some of the most popular girls in school.

Chandler snuck a glance over her shoulder at the crumpled orange envelope sitting in the trash. When she looked over to the table of jocks again, she could make out the distinctive flash of pumpkin shaped enamel pins against their lettermen.

If Kurt and Ram and their brainless cronies were invited, then the bar must be in the gutter. Right now they were making oink noises at Martha Dunnstock. Primitive second-grade bullshit- come on, they weren't in the eighties. Bullying wasn't supposed to be in anymore. Her own preferred method of attack was ostracization with the help of vagues on social media. Why say something mean to their face when you could just post twenty times in one night about the event they deliberately were excluded from? Suspensions weren't worth the trouble of heckling the school freaks.

Talking of school freaks- Veronica Sawyer just walked onto the scene.

God, Veronica Sawyer always looked so fucking horrible. Bouncy dark hair that Chandler wanted to run her fingers through and these gorgeous doe eyes that made something inside Chandler's heart feel like a quivering bowl of jell-o. Today Veronica was wearing a mustard yellow cardigan over a shirt from the book geek club with the slogan "literature is lit!" and plaid patterned jeans. Her messenger bag seemed to have acquired yet another stain and was quite literally falling to pieces. The very epitome of loser and somehow also the most perfect being in existence. Second to Chandler herself, of course, and Chandler's ragdoll cat Marie. Veronica snapped at Kurt and Ram, tugging Martha away protectively, and the tiny besotted voice at the back of her head sighed dreamily.

"-Heather? Hello? Are you even alive?"

McNamara and Duke were both staring at her. Chandler stared back.

"What?"

"Oh my god," Mcnamara exclaimed. "You were totally mooning over Veronica Sawyer again, weren't you?"

"Of course not, who do you think I am? I would never go for that geek." McNamara smiled an irritatingly gloating smile.

"Heather, you've been crushing on her since middle school."

"You're crushing so hard we can see the gay from space." Duke grumbled. Chandler scowled.

"I'm not crushing on her," she said derisively. "What the actual fuck."

She totally was.

"Whatever," Chandler said, standing up hastily. "I'm going to go do the lunchtime poll."

 

* * *

 

"Okay." Chandler announced, opening up the notes app on her iphone. "So you get twenty four hours to do anything you want without legal repercussions, but you have to live with the social fallout, and you get two hundred dollars to do it. What do you do?"

 

* * *

 

 

"Alright," Chandler said, foot tapping impatiently as she waited for the chatter of Courtney's lunch table to die down. "Lunchtime poll time."

So far she had:

-use the two hundred to buy weapons to rob people for more money and then use that money to hire a hitman for kim kardashian  
-buying lethal amounts of rat poison to put in ex's latte  
-putting it into a college fund  
-getting two hundred dollars worth of edibles and handing it out to elderly people  
-flood the school with a thousand gallons of ketchup  
-taking boyfriend to expensive orchestra thing  
-buy 4 videogames  
-go to a strip club and party all night like beasts  
-break into mcdonalds and steal all of the food  
-guillotine the rich and siphon corporation money into legitimate charities while livestreaming the entire thing  
-get lizards

Kind of shitty responses, but at least more genuine than whatever sanctimonious crap was about to come out of Courtney's mouth.

"You get two hundred dollars and twenty four hours to do whatever without getting into legal trouble, but you have to live with whatever happens. What do you do?" Courtney smiled up at Chandler. Chandler smiled a plastic smile back.

"I'd give the two hundred dollars to charity and go about my day like normal."

"Thanks for the answer." Chandler said robotically, shutting off her phone and sliding it into her pocket. Playing nice with Courtney sucked and she was already itching to move on.

"I would use that money to buy a really cool halloween costume," Sean interjected. Sean was an egotistical jerkwad with a face like a frog who bragged too much about his rich broker dad. He was insufferable. "I don't actually go trick or treating, but I already have one though because I have a thing today. Just gotta be prepared, you know?" He reached into his pocket and took out an enamel pin, sliding it across the table, the orange pumpkin a splotch of colour against the grey surface. Courtney's cronies all smiled, clearly having noticed the absence of any pin in Chandler's outfit.

Seriously, who was in charge of the guest list? Chandler needed to talk to Jenna, ASAP. They'd agreed that Jenna would get Courtney and her friends off the guest list for the Halloween Bash. Did Courtney bribe Jenna somehow?

"That's nice Sean," She said, placing both hands on the table and leaning just a touch too close to him. He looked unnerved, leaning backward in his seat. "What are you going as this year?"

Sean stammered. "I, uh. I wanted to be a zombie, at first, but I changed my mind and decided on-"

"Heather!" It was Duke calling her from a few feet away. "Heather! Lunch is almost over, come on!"

"Check out what we got!" McNamara added, waving a distinct orange envelope in the air.

"Okay!" Chandler yelled. She turned back to the table and smiled again, much more genuine than the last. "I hope you all have fun this Halloween."

Chandler left before she could hear any response. Sitting in her closed hand, cool and polished, was Sean's enamel pin.

 

* * *

 

Heather Chandler glanced around cautiously. There were two minutes left until the last bell of the day. No one was around. Quickly, she slipped the folded note through the slats of the locker and pushed the enamel pin through after it. The pin fell to the bottom of the locker with a clanging, metallic noise that resonated unpleasantly in her gut.

Chandler stared, nervous for a change, at the locker for a long moment. The bell rang. Classroom doors all along the hallway started to open, unleashing a flood of students. Chandler turned abruptly, heels clicking against the floor, and hurried away as nonchalantly as she could from Veronica Sawyer's locker.


	2. stealing love's sweet bait from fearful hooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> veronica makes her choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, bitches, bastards, & other curs of the night 
> 
> this fic is back ✌️

Heather Chandler hummed as she dried her hands on the monogrammed hand towels. They were nice, fluffy white towels with a decidedly sunshiney yellow embroidered pattern. Chandler remembered helping Heather McNamara pick them out. 

The yellow happened to be the same colour as her wig. She'd been second guessing the choice since she'd bought it, but it was already too late to turn back. They had about five minutes before they had to leave for the party, and she'd already decided to commit to the Cinderella look. 

Chandler narrowed her eyes in scrutiny at her reflection in the mirror and picked her costume to pieces for the millionth time. The blonde wig was too bright against the cheap plastic tiara, but at least it hid her natural ginger shade. She was wearing a strapless bra due to the off the shoulder dress which was already starting to slip. Ugh. The hem of the dress ended just past the knees, and she wondered for a moment if she should have gone with a shorter skirt, closer to her usual style. The evening gloves had a weird scratchy seam on the inside, and the plumed sapphire feather on the side of Chandler's mask looked like it might fall off. She'd chosen clear blue flats in anticipation of a long night, but now they seemed sad and plain. Even the pumpkin purse she'd thought was cute looked tacky now. Had she always looked like such a mess? 

At least she hadn't fucked up the makeup. 

Chandler exited the bathroom, tired of looking at herself, and headed down the hallway to the bedroom without a second thought. She'd been to the McNamara mansion so many times it was practically like her own. 

The hallway was unlit, the only light a sliver spilling through a gap in McNamara's bedroom door. 

Chandler stood outside for a long moment, trying to summon the resolve to go in. 

She shouldn't have even gone with this costume. A _princess_. Could she have chosen anything more childish? She looked horrible and felt horrible and far too keyed up with tense, horrible nerves. She should just turn around, walk out of the McNamara's place, down the driveway and past Duke's jeep, down the endless strips of sidewalk and into the night where she would disappear and never be seen again. And then everyone would be happier for it. 

"Heather? Have you seen my earrings?" A pause, then, "Nevermind, found them!"

"You've lost those earrings at least five times this week." Heather Duke's disembodied voice said. Heather McNamara said something in response, but the rest was muffled. 

"I'm done." Chandler announced, pushing open the door. "Tell me how hot I look."

The other Heathers looked up from where they were perched in full costume on the edge of McNamara's bed. 

"Wow!" McNamara exclaimed. "You look like a whole new person!" 

"It's the mask." Duke said, with begrudging admiration in her voice. "You look good, girl." Chandler did a mock curtsy, the flowy fabric of her blue dress flaring out at the movement. 

"Thank you, monsieur." Chandler said. "You look... very dashing as well."

"Hey, lesbian musketeer is a _classic_." Duke protested. "Look at all the drama in this feathered cap and tell me any other costume could be as extra." Chandler rolled her eyes and started hunting through the jewelry box she'd left on McNamara's bedside table. 

McNamara grinned. "You just want to poke people with your rapier."

"Perhaps," Duke said, tilting her head to the side with a grin of her own. "The ladies can't resist a girl in a tabard, you know?"

"Oh my god, I didn't mean it like that." McNamara giggled. "It's a really unique costume, Heather!" 

"It really is." Chandler said drily. 

"Better than another group thing." Duke retorted. McNamara's eyebrows knit into a frown. 

"The group costumes were great!" 

Chandler snorted at that, not bothering to look up from her search. She had brought the right box from home, hadn't she? 

"We are never letting you choose our costumes again." Duke said. "You made us go as ketchup, mustard, and relish." 

"But it was _sexy_ ketchup, mustard, and relish!" 

"Yeah, that didn't exactly help all the hot dog jokes." 

"You were making half of those hot dog jokes!" 

"Very stimulating conversation," Chandler drawled. "Did one of you take my necklace?"

"Oh, this one?" McNamara said, holding it up in one hand. The small gemstone pendant glittered brilliant blue against the white and green of McNamara's stolen Jefferson Jackalopes cheerleading uniform. "Sorry about taking it, I was just wondering where you got this. I don't think I've ever seen you wear this before?" 

Chandler snatched the necklace out of McNamara's hand, and felt the slightest twinge of regret at McNamara's startled expression. Chandler looked away. 

"It looks familiar." Duke remarked, almost too blandly. 

Duke was one of the handful of people in Sherwood who could possibly identify it. She hadn't considered that. Fuck. Chandler had the sudden, absurd urge to wrap her fingers tightly around the pendant, hide it in her clenched fist and feel the cool metal chain dig into her skin. 

She inhaled deeply, took a second to secure the clasp of the necklace around her neck. Exhaled. 

"I bought it recently." Chandler said, in her 'drop it now' tone of voice. A beat too late to be natural. Duke gave her a look, but shut up. "Are you all done gawking at my accesories or can we leave?" 

\---

They arrived fashionably late, of course.

The party was already in full swing, the faint sound of music audible even through the walls. Lines of cars were parked up and down the block, Chandler's porsche among them. 

"Remember," Chandler said, double checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror. "We are above them. We are untouchable. We are never afraid. And if any one of us needs backup..."

"Emergency text. Got it." McNamara chirped. 

Duke snickered from the backseat. "One for all and all for one, right Heather?" Chandler couldn't help but roll her eyes as she swung open the car door.

"Ugh, nerd. Everyone ready? Good. Let's go show Westerburg how to have a good time." 

\---

Okay, was it kind of a bitch move to ditch her friends within the first twenty minutes? Totally. Chandler did it anyways. 

"I'm going to the bathroom," Chandler had said. "Don't follow me, losers."

And then she was gone, pushing off the wall and into the throng of unfamiliar costumes. They'd been gossipping about who might be who, but the lighting was so shitty that in most cases you genuinely couldn't tell who was behind the mask. At least it meant she couldn't be recognized, either. 

Where was Veronica? Had she even come? 

Chandler paced a restless lap through the first floor, past the drinks table and the noisy kitchen, the tacky souveniers on the mantlepiece and the couples already staking out the sofa. Past the group of people sprawled on the floor yelling at mario kart and the giant spill of spiked punch on the floor and the entrance to the foyer- and directly into a girl wearing a revealing mummy costume. 

That should really be some kind of paradox, Chandler thought, approximately half a second before eating complete and total shit on the floor, sending the plastic tiara tangled in her wig flying off her head and skittering across the tile in multiple pieces. 

"Oh! Christ!" Sexy mummy girl exclaimed. "I'm so sorry!" 

Chandler knew that voice. It was Jenna, in some kind of gauzey dress monstrosity that suggested the idea of a mummy more than represent it. The head of the student initiative club that had been flaking about their invites for the past week. 

"I'm really really sorry," Jenna continued. "I just got here, totally didn't see you coming around that corner. Are you okay?"

Chandler hastily got back on her feet before Jenna could have the chance to offer her a hand up. 

"I'm okay," Chandler said, pitching her voice up. "Accidents happen. I'm _sure_ you didn't mean to." Shit, that came out a lot bitchier than intended. 

"Oh." Jenna said, taken aback. "I. Um. Sorry again, I'm just uh, in a rush. I really need to find someone so I wasn't really looking where I was going..." 

"Seriously, it's fine. You're looking for someone?" Jenna leaped for the subject change. 

"Yeah! Actually, I need to talk to Heather McNamara? Do you know her?" 

"I know _of_ her," Chandler said cautiously. "Cheerleading captain? Always wears yellow? Why do you ask?" 

"It's a long story," Jenna laughed, fidgeting with the ends of her mummy dress. "I hope she's here though. I tried texting her and everything but she's not like, responding. So. I'm a little worried about her." 

Chandler had kiiind of given orders to the others to give the cold shoulder to Jenna. Oops? 

"I'm sure she's here," Chandler said. "Everyone in the school is. She's probably just busy with her friends."

"That's true... I wonder if the other Heathers are here? You know, the ones she always hangs out with?"

"I don't know," Chandler shrugged. "I hope they come. It's not a party without the Heathers."

"Hah, they are soooo wild. And, um, I'm not trying to say anything, because I don't really know her," Jenna said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "But the head Heather's... intense."

"Intense?" Jenna made a face. 

"I heard she's trying to start a cult. And that she got a boob job done over the summer." 

"Oh. Wow."

"Yeah," Jenna said, leaning backwards against the wall with a small, self satisfied grin. Chandler herself had worn the same kind of gossipy smirk a thousand times over. "She acts so high and mighty, you know? Like we're all peasants compared to her. But everyone knows she's a total fake. She does all of this shit to make herself look perfect even though it's obvious that she's only cool because she can max out daddy's credit card, right? " 

Chandler wished desperately she could blow her cover and slap Jenna across the face. What the fuck? What the Fuck? They were supposed to be friends. Since when was Jenna talking shit behind her back?

"Well." A new voice said, measured and cool. "I find it hard to believe that a total fake could be the queen of the school and stay on that throne for two years running. Wouldn't that, I don't know, say something about the people who follow said total fake?"

And then a warm hand snaked around her bicep, resting lightly in the crook of her forearm as the speaker pressed close into Chandler's side. 

The newcomer, too, was masked, but Chandler knew in an instant that it was Veronica Sawyer. 

Veronica hadn't changed what shampoo she used since middle school . God. The scent of lavender and honey was almost overwhelming, 

Veronica was so close that if Chandler turned her head her lips might brush against Veronica's cheek. Veronica's hand was a gentle touch on her skin, electrocuting Chandler from the inside out. It sent absolutely horrendous, unpleasant jolts of sensation and nerves down her spine. Veronica squeezed her arm reassuringly, then slid down to clasp Chandler's gloved right hand. Her fingers were still as icy as ever. 

"Excuse me," Veronica said. "I need to borrow my friend." And Heather let herself be lead away. 

Veronica pulled her away from the entryway, deeper into the house and into the living room. All of the furniture had been shoved aside in favour of several kegs. At least thirty people were standing in a crush around the kegs, crowding eagerly for a better view of the spectacle in the middle. Chandler could just barely see over their heads, and the room was so packed it was hard to move. Music blasted from a speaker in the corner. 

"FIRST KEG STAND OF THE NIGHT !" Ram shouted. "LET'S GO ROTTWEILERS!" 

He was dressed as a zombie but still distinctly recognizable as a jackass. A cheer went up from the gathered crowd. Veronica made a quiet scoffing noise, barely distinguishable above the ruckus, grip tightening. 

"Change of plans," Veronica shouted. She turned around, and the crowd immediately closed the gap she'd left behind. Someone pushed into Chandler from behind, and she stumbled a step closer, and suddenly she and Veronica were face to face, their linked hands pinned between them uncomfortably. 

Chandler had a vivid, violent flashbulb memory of practicing how to square dance in eighth grade, stumbling and laughing all around Chandler's bedroom and getting it all wrong. She choked it down. 

Veronica was still shorter than Chandler. This close, Chandler could see her eyelashes brushing against her cheek when she blinked. Veronica's lips were stained bright red with fake blood, tell-tale plastic fangs resting against her lower lip. A pale blue cravat was tucked into her shirt collar, ruffling out ornately. Her dark hair fell and pooled against the tall, dramatic collar of the cloak draped around her shoulders. 

Chandler shivered, almost imperceptibly. 

"Let's get out of here," Chandler said. Turning, she managed to push her way out of the crowd, who were all chanting "chug ! chug ! chug!" at this point. 

Veronica followed close behind, their hands a burning link. 

They emerged into the foyer once more, thankfully empty this time.

"That way," Chandler hissed, spying the stairs. They hurried up the stairs together, emerging into an unlit corridor. 

No one around except for them. Another cheer came from the direction of the living room, but the sounds of the party were already much dimmer, as if coming from a different dimension. 

Then Chandler was staring, unabashedly in the low light, at the girl before her. 

Veronica had changed so much since... since. Her tiny nerdy weirdo best friend had become a beautiful nerdy stranger. A stranger who was staring right back at her. 

Belatedly, Chandler dropped Veronica's hand. The absence of contact struck her as odd, and she tried to lean back haughtily against the wall. 

"I didn't think you needed a boob job anyways." Veronica blurted. 

"What?" 

Veronica gestured. 

"The boob job that girl was mentioning? You look fine. Like, normal. You didn't need boob enhancement in the first place. Not that anyone does, it's like, a construct of the demands of the toxic masculine gaze-"

Chandler laughed, helplessly, and pulled out her phone. Veronica looked down at the ground. 

"What, are you going to sic your friends on me? Like you did freshman year?" 

"Nope," Chandler said, pressing send on a text and putting her phone back in her pumpkin purse. "Just telling them not to come looking for me." 

Okay, maybe it was more along the lines of that Jenna was a fugly bitch who could not be trusted and wanted to talk with McNamara and also that Chandler had found a hot guy to hookup with and not to disturb her except for emergencies. Veronica didn't need to know any of that. 

"Heather," Veronica started, voice unreadable. Chandler's traitorous heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name in Veronica's voice. She cut Veronica off before she could say more. 

"Who told you about my disguise?" She demanded. 

"You mean how did I know it was you? Dumbass." Veronica said. She reached out, fingertips brushing against Chandler's skin as she lifted the stone of the pendant gently up. "I gave you this necklace." 

So she did remember. 

Chandler had wondered, you know. Chandler couldn't forget that particular night if she tried. 

A blanket fort too small for the both of them, The Princess Bride having spun its course in the DVD player back to the play menu looping on mute. Veronica's gentle sleepy breaths besides Chandler as she watched the Sawyer's grandfather clock tick towards midnight. Every move of the second hand a second closer to Chandler's fourteenth birthday. 

Waking Veronica up at midnight, the delighted grin Veronica had worn when she'd loved the gift. Sneaking to the Sawyer's kitchen to dig birthday ice cream out of the freezer, partners in crime. Feeling bright and happy and invincibly cool. 

Taking in Veronica's dazzling starshine grin and pulling her close, impulsively, a chaste kiss that shouldn't have meant anything and ended up detonating her entire world. 

"You never said thank you for the necklace, by the way." 

Chandler blinked, forcibly shoving the memory away. Veronica was scrutinizing her, arms crossed. 

"No," she agreed. "I was rather preoccupied." 

Veronica rolled her eyes. The move was so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time that Chandler's heart felt like it seized for a beat, realizing the unnavigated waters that she'd stumbled into. How on earth was she supposed to deal with Veronica Sawyer when Veronica was... 

"Cut the bullshit, Heather. I want to know why you invited me." 

"You don't have any proof it was me." 

"Your perfume was all over it." 

A long moment of silence. Chandler studied the shadows in the folds of Veronica's cravat, the dusting of white facial powder that had fallen on the collar of the cape. 

"Look, Heather," Veronica sighed. "Just tell me the truth. Is this a pity thing? Are you trying to clear what happened off your conscience before graduation? Invite the weird little outcast to a cool kid party?" 

Chandler winced. There were dozens of prettier lies on her tongue right away, ones that would have felt easier to say- but Veronica had asked for the truth. 

"I- I wanted to apologize. For what happened. I know I fucked up." She continued, quieter. "I want to know if we can... start over again. Be friends." 

"Funny joke. Do you see me laughing?" 

"Veronica," Chandler whispered. Imploring. "Is it so hard to believe that I'm sorry for what happened? That I want to be your friend? We were friends not too long ago."

"Two years ago. After you abandoned me." 

"Two years ago." Chandler agreed, taking off her mask. "You deserved better, V." 

She genuinely meant it. With her entire fucking heart. The mask felt strange between her clammy fingers, nerves sparking. 

"Okay," Veronica said, uncrossing her arms. "Friends, huh? Sure." A small scrap of hope unlodged itself in Chandler's chest.

"Wh- Seriously? Do you mean that?"

"No." Veronica moved a step closer, too close. Chandler flinched back, pressing against the wall. "Fuck being friends." 

Then Veronica's hands were on her waist and she was leaning in, Chandler's heart skipping beats to the muffled party music from a world away. 

Veronica tasted like strawberry chapstick. Her lips were gentle against Chandler's. She had to angle sightly downwards to kiss Veronica back properly, noses brushing. Veronica bit Chandler's lower lip, a little vindicative. She made an involuntary sound against Veronica's mouth, mostly desire and a little bit of terrified, and Veronica drew back. 

Chandler could only stare, paralyzed. Veronica's hands were still resting delicately against her body. 

"There." Veronica breathed, breaths coming quick and hard. "Now we're even."

It was the softest angry kiss Chandler had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly was planning to update with the 2nd chap within 3 days of the first upload and. yeahhh haha see how that turned out. 
> 
> i. uh. life happened. and depression. a lot of that. 
> 
> but. yknow what. i kicked the shit out of that depression crap. no negativity for me in 2019! no thank you ! we're back on the self indulgent writing wagon, which is relevant to you as a reader because that means there's about 1.5 more prewritten pre-edit postheadache chapters sketched out & projected time for chapter 3 is about 2-3 weeks out(it'd be 1-2 weeks but finals are Soon lmao). expect chapters to be at least this length or longer from now on ;^)
> 
> thank you for sparing the time to read this. feedback is always appreciated. 
> 
> if you want to ask for hcs about this fic, or get a glimpse at the playlist in progress, head on over to keenmint.tumblr.com . 
> 
> hope you're having a good day, or will soon. take care of yourselves babes see you on the flip side

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please feel free to leave some kudos/comments! feedback stokes the Word Machine.
> 
> if you found any typos, kindly let me know! it's just me & grammarly up in this bitch & a second perspective is always appreciated. 
> 
> (i'm keenmint on tumblr if you'd like to yell abt heathers)


End file.
